


More than a lot

by ayjee



Series: Dysfunctional yet loving synth family number two [3]
Category: Fallout 4
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-07
Updated: 2016-08-07
Packaged: 2018-08-07 05:51:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 887
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7703020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ayjee/pseuds/ayjee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Aunt Piper and Shaun have The Talk.</p>
            </blockquote>





	More than a lot

Piper is slightly out of breath when she makes it to the top of the hill behind Red Rocket station. Shaun is here alright, sitting cross-legged on the ground, Dogmeat’s head in his lap. The look he gives her when she comes out of the trees is not exactly friendly, but he makes no move to leave, either. Which is more than Ned has been able to accomplish in almost a week.

“Mind if I sit next to you, kiddo?”

“It’s a free country,” he shrugs.

She makes herself comfortable in the grass next to him, unsure where to begin, or even if she should say anything at all. Before she knows it, there’s a cigarette dangling from her mouth; she catches herself just before lighting it.

Shaun notices her putting the cigarette back in its pack. He huffs. “You can smoke next to me, you know. It’s not like I’m gonna get cancer or anything. You, on the other hand…”

“Thanks, doctor,” she mumbles. “I suppose you have a point, but still. Let me know if the smoke gets in your face.” She lights the cigarette, takes a long drag, exhales with a content sigh.

“Why do people even smoke? It smells nasty,” Shaun comments, turning up his nose.

Piper shakes her head. “It’s a habit, kid. People don’t smoke for pleasure.”

“You don’t like smoking?” Shaun’s brows furrow. Piper knows she’s seen this expression on someone else before, but on the boy, it just looks funny.

“Well… yes, but it does come with a price.” Shaun’s expression suggests he wonders why anyone would bother, and she feels compelled to elaborate. “It’s really not that bad, the smell, I mean. Smoking helps me focus. And sometimes, it’s the only thing that keeps me sane.”

Shaun leans in, eyes wide with curiosity. “Really?”

“Mmm.”

“May I try?”

“No,” she says sternly, and blows the smoke in the opposite direction. “Your dad would kill me.”

He leans away from her, scowling. “He’s not my father.”

_There we are._ “Maybe not, but he would still be mad that I let you smoke.”

“It’s none of his business.” Shaun rips a few strands of grass and crushes them between his fingers. He keeps his head low and she can’t read his expression. “He just wants a child. Anyone would do. Just because we look alike, doesn’t make me his son.” Dogmeat bumps his head against the boy’s thigh with a whine.

“I suppose not. But look at it this way,” Piper says, resting her chin in her hand. Her fingers tap against her cheekbone. “Just because he’s not your father, doesn’t mean he can’t cook you dinner. Read you bedtime stories… or teach you how to shoot. You know, parent stuff.”

“Dad – I mean, he wouldn’t teach me. Too _dangerous_ ,” Shaun sneers.

This makes Piper pause. “But you took a gun with you to Boston Airport. What good is a gun if you don’t know how to shoot it?”

Shaun absorbs himself in the contemplation of grass. “Danse showed me,” he says eventually.

“Did he now,” Piper exclaims. She’s not sure what to do with that information, so she files it away for later. “Okay, maybe he won’t teach you how to fire a gun. But my point still stands. It’s nice to have a father figure around, kiddo.”

“Father figure? What about your real dad?”

Piper stubs out her cigarette on the sole of her boot, tosses it into the grass. “Long gone. He died when I was a couple of years older than you.”

“Oh,” Shaun says awkwardly. “I – I didn’t know.”

“It’s okay.” Piper adjusts the press cap on top of her head. “I have good memories of him.”

Shaun runs a hand through the grass before him. When he speaks again, his voice is laced with hesitation. “I’m sorry you lost your dad, but… that doesn’t mean I should forget about everything that’s happened.”

_That obvious, hu._ “No,” Piper admits, “it doesn’t.”

“He lied to me.” Piper sees the way the boy’s nostrils flare, and the flush creeping up his cheek. Larger than life. Well done, Institute. “Would’ve kept lying if I hadn’t left. What kind of parent lies to their kid? I will never trust him again.” He sounds on the verge of tears.

She lays a tentative hand on his shoulder. “Oh Shaun… people lie, all the time, to the people they love. Your dad,” she catches herself, shakes her head. “Ned. Yes, he lied to you and it was wrong… but I don’t know that I would’ve done things differently. It’s a difficult situation, kiddo.”

“That’s what Dr Li said,” Shaun says, grudgingly.

Piper makes a mental note to ask Ned about the doctor later. He’s always been reluctant to share the details of his trip to the Institute, but things might be different now. “See? Even scientists don’t know what to make of it.” She fights the urge to light another cigarette. “It’s okay, though, you have time to figure it out.”

“Figure what out?”

“It’s a saying.”

“What does it mean?”

She sighs. “I just meant that there’s no rush for you to do anything about… well, about what you learned at Boston Airport. It’s a lot to process.”

Shaun shrugs, but tilts his head so it presses against her hand.


End file.
